


Facebook Comment Imagining

by Lastactiontricia



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:59:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11608845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lastactiontricia/pseuds/Lastactiontricia





	Facebook Comment Imagining

Today I pushed Dean too far. We only hunted together on occasion, but me blazing a trail thru that nest of vampires without waiting for backup had really pissed him off.  
“Fuck you Dean. I just did what you would’ve done.”  
“I wouldn’t have been stupid about it! You didn’t even wait for us to get there! They were about to make carpaccio out of your face!”  
“I had it under control.”  
“Without us you’d be a fucking snack pack for the goddamn bloodsuckers! You keep that up and you’re done, there’s too much monster to be worried about another damsel in distress.”  
You raised your arm to slap him, but he catches your wrist like it’s an annoyance. He backs you up against the wall, wrist still imprisoned, and leans down to your ear. In a low husky voice, he whispers,  
“Wanna try that again sweetheart?” Your wrist is at the edge of pain and you’re gulping in air like an Olympic runner at this point. He still hovers near your ear, his breath ghosting the fine hairs at your nape. You both are still covered in the sweat and dirt and the cloying scent of blood spilled. He’s crowding you now, aggressively using his size to keep you in place. You shove out with your still free arm and he doesn’t budge, his soft laugh isn’t threatening but you feel it low in your abdomen anyway.  
He skims his mouth down your jawline, making you hiss unexpectedly,” Give up?” He mouths against your neck, scraping his teeth down the length. Your shoves have turned into a grab at the front of his shirt, the material is twisted tight in your fist. You force him closer still with it and he hums in approval, releasing your other hand to skim his fingertips down your sides and up under your shirt. That barest of touch makes you moan, and he locks his eyes on you, the force of his gaze and the hunger in it makes you sway. He kisses you carnally, his hands suddenly around your waist in a bruising grip, trapping you between him and the wall. His hands slide under your ass hitching you up higher, the tips of his fingers digging in. Your eyes open in surprise at the full-frontal contact, and you almost fall out of the kiss when you see his eyes already open and intent on you. He pulls back a little, his mouth is swollen and framed by that cocky half grin you like so much. He slowly grinds his pelvis against yours, the ridge of his dick thru his jeans is positioned perfectly against your core and you feel yourself get wet and needy. Your hands have been gripping his shoulders for purchase and you let them trail down feeling the strength in his biceps and top of his forearms before you rake your nails lightly over the softer contours of his stomach, causing him to jerk and tighten his grip. That trademark grin is gone, you can see the lines of strain around his mouth and eyes as he fights for a semblance of control. You nip his ear, hard enough to redden it then sooth the salty tang with your tongue achingly slow. The scent of cedar and metal shavings emanates from him as he slowly slides your belt thru the loops, each drag and catch shockingly loud. That sound is driving you insane, it’s too slow, too deliberate. Dean buries his face in the crossroad between your neck and shoulder and sinks his teeth in, not enough to hurt, just on the edge of pain. You rip his shirt without realizing it, rending it in two down the back. He sets you down and gently pulls off your jeans, driving you crazy with his unhurried pace. His hands run over your ass and thighs and skim the back of your knees which almost makes you tremble. You kick yourself the rest of the way out of them, making him bark out a laugh before he's kicking his own jeans off and shrugging off the remnants of his shirt. He doesn't give you too much time to think, before you can finish struggling with your bra he's on you again, his hands locked in your hair and his mouth fused to yours. He backs you up against the wall again, ripping off the last barrier of your underwear as his other thumb teases along the seam and your clit. When you reach down to stroke him he plunges his fingers inside, causing you to make a strangled noise. Its abrupt but incredible, you match your strokes to his rhythm until he grunts, pulling free to put on a condom. He lifts your leg up and around his hip as he hoist you a few inches off the ground while surging into you. You both groan in appreciation at the tight fit, just the right mount of friction. He lavishes attention on your breasts, steadily pumping into you, keeping you on the tips of your toes. You're kissing his neck when you can, running your hands over his wide shoulders, his jawline, everything. The pressure is starting to coil in your abdomen, and seeing your face Dean increases the pace, almost drilling you into the wall. Your head falls back as you feel your orgasm coming on and Dean grabs your face, "Look at me Y/N. I want you to know who's fucking you." You lock eyes with him, unraveling, screaming his name before biting down on his shoulder triggering his release. He looks so much more peaceful in that moment than you've ever seen him, and when he's sated he rests his head against yours, slowing untangling you. 


End file.
